


The Meaning of Partners

by purplestarfish



Series: The Meaning of... [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Asexual Clint Barton, Deaf Clint Barton, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Everyone lives/Nobody dies, Fluff, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Internalized Acephobia, Light Angst, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 07:22:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17576438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplestarfish/pseuds/purplestarfish
Summary: “It’s not that I’m not comfortable with it or whatever,” Clint answered, “It’s just that… it’s never really been worth mentioning, ya know? But, um, I guess now it is, so… I’m asexual.” Clint finger-spelled the last word, then followed it with a series of signs that seemed to literally translate to SEX-FASCINATING-NONE.Phil puffed out a sigh and felt his shoulders actually sag in relief. This he could work with.“Oh,” Phil shrugged. “That’s no problem. I completely understand.”---In which Clint doesn't think anyone can love him without sex, and that combined with poor communication skills on both sides leads to a significant misunderstanding.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like it! Please let me know if there's anything I've missed, and if you like it, please leave kudos/comments! I'll love you forever!
> 
> Also: Clint is canonically Deaf, so I've tried to do justice to that here. That said, I'm hearing, so please let me know if I've screwed anything up!
> 
> And on that note: ASL is the primary language used for dialogue in the fic (written in English for purposes of the fic), so whenever a different language is used, I've put it in italics.
> 
> I don't think this fic really requires warnings, other than that Clint has some internalized acephobia. And less-than-ideal communication skills are to be expected for any fic relying on this trope.
> 
> I'll post any other warnings I think of for individual chapters, but let me know if I've missed any!
> 
> \--
> 
> Edit: This fic has now been translated into Russian by the amazing dean deer! Check it out at https://ficbook.net/readfic/8043688/20416131.

_You can do this._

 

Phil was sitting on the couch at Clint’s apartment, feet up on the table, eating pizza and watching a new episode of _Dog Cops_. Although _watching_ may have been the wrong word, since what Phil was really doing was trying to psych himself up to ask Clint an important question. A question that had been on his mind for… well, Phil didn’t really want to count the number of years.

 

He was making a conscious effort not to allow his muscles to tighten, despite the sweat dampening his palms and the loud pounding of his heart in his ears. He didn’t want to put Clint on edge, and having sat together in many a tight spot in the field, he knew Clint would react instinctively to even the slightest rigidity in Phil’s posture.

 

_Okay_ , he told himself, _this isn’t a big deal. The worst that can happen is he says no. He’s your best friend, this isn’t going to ruin anything_.

 

And Phil knew it wouldn’t. Logically, he knew that he and Clint were solid. They’d survived so much: Clint going offline during one of the most terrifying hours of Phil’s life, only to resurface saying he was bringing the Black Widow in; Clint being brainwashed by Loki and Phil almost dying; Phil becoming Fury’s official right-hand man and then liaison to the Avengers, both of which meant he could no longer serve directly as Clint’s handler; hell, they’d even survived the stupid fights that got blown way out of proportion, like the time they’d been driving to the Grand Canyon and Phil had refused to stop for directions (he was sure he knew where he was going, okay?), and somehow they’d wound up circumventing the National Park entirely and had found themselves on the Strip in Vegas.

 

That had actually been quite a fun trip once Clint had cut out the “I told you so’s” and started making plans to “break into Cirque du Soleil and see if anyone notices one of their acrobats isn’t supposed to be there”.

 

No one had.

 

So certainly, Phil knew his friendship with Clint was solid. They would be fine. But that didn’t stop Phil from sweating. He liked to know exactly how his plans were going to play out, to the word, and his plan tonight felt more like a coin toss.

 

_Fuck it_ , he thought. He took a deep breath, and turned to Clint, pulling his knee up onto the couch. Clint evidently noticed his movement out of the corner of his eye, because he moved in turn to face Phil.

 

“Clint,” Phil signed, “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

 

Clint nodded, frowning, presumably at the serious tone with which Phil approached the conversation. “Of course, Phil. What’s up?”

 

_Now or never._ “We’ve been friends a long time, and I just wanted to know if you’ve ever… thought about something more?”

 

The crease of Clint’s frown deepened, sending a pang of worry through Phil’s gut.

 

“You’re my best friend, Phil,” Clint signed, slowly, as though to a five-year-old, “What could possibly mean more than that?”

 

Phil closed his eyes and shook his head, smiling to himself. Of course Clint would see things that way. Especially knowing as much of Clint’s background as he did, he should have anticipated that Clint would see the trust and friendship they’d built over the years as more important than the possibility of anything romantic. Not that he was wrong, of course.

 

“Sorry,” Phil responded finally. “I didn’t mean ‘more,’ really. I just… was wondering… Okay, let me start over. Clint, I was wondering if you might like to go on a date with me?”

 

_There goes the Band-Aid._

 

He saw Clint’s eyes widen in sudden understanding and swallowed heavily. _This is it_ , he thought. _This is when you find out whether the man you’ve been in love with for over a decade could ever have feelings for you back._

 

Clint didn’t move for several moments, and when he did it was to bring his hands up a few centimetres and then move them down again, several times, as though he was searching for the right words and not coming up with them. Eventually, though, he let out a long exhale and answered.

 

“Phil…” Clint started. “I… You know how important you are to me.”

 

_And there it was._ Phil’s stomach sank, and he tried to put on a small smile to hide the heartbreak. If the look of equal pain on Clint’s face was anything to go by, he wasn’t entirely successful.

 

“It’s just…” Clint continued, glancing around the room as though the answers might materialize out of thin air if he just looked hard enough. Finally, he seemed to resign himself to the conversation. “Phil, there’s something you don’t know about me.”

 

That made Phil lean back in surprise. Rejection he’d expected, but something Phil didn’t know? Honestly, what could Phil possibly not know about Clint at this point? Not only had they spent years becoming incredibly close friends and partners in the field, but Phil had also read the most classified of Clint’s personnel files. Hell, he’d played a major part in writing most of them.

 

“What do you mean?” he asked.

 

“It’s not that I’m not comfortable with it or whatever,” Clint answered, “It’s just that… it’s never really been worth mentioning, ya know? But, um, I guess now it is, so… I’m asexual.” Clint finger-spelled the last word, then followed it with a series of signs that seemed to literally translate to SEX-FASCINATING-NONE.

 

Phil puffed out a sigh and felt his shoulders actually sag in relief. This he could work with.

 

“Oh,” Phil shrugged. “That’s no problem. I completely understand.” Then, to make sure he’d got the new sign right, he repeated it, raising his eyebrows to indicate clarification.

 

Clint nodded and gave him an insecure look.

 

Phil reached out with his left hand to take Clint’s. He signed with his right. “That’s really not a problem, Clint. Okay? I promise. Have… have I done anything that’s made you uncomfortable?”

 

Clint’s eyes widened and he shook his head, pulling his hand out of Phil’s and signing almost frantically. “No, not at all! Everything’s great, Phil, really. I don’t mind joking around about sex and whatever, and when we have to kiss for a mission or whatever, that’s fine, we’re undercover, I don’t care. I just wanted you to know that… well, that I can’t… ya know…”

 

_We can’t go any further than that_ , Phil thought. “I understand,” he repeated. “That doesn’t bother me at all. Really.”

 

He expected Clint to look relieved at having got that off his chest, but instead he looked almost sad… maybe resigned? Well, if they were going to do this, they were going to do it right. Phil would make sure Clint knew he could respect his boundaries, and he’d start by not pushing for anything tonight. They’d have plenty of time to talk details later, after all.

 

“Why don’t we just watch some more TV?” he suggested. “I’ll even dunk my crusts in this garlic sauce, so you can feel sure I won’t be tempted to kiss you. Okay?”

 

Clint laughed and rolled his eyes, punching Phil lightly on the shoulder as he turned back to face the TV. Phil allowed himself to scoot ever so slightly closer on the couch, but was careful not to do anything invasive like put his arm around Clint’s shoulders.

 

Like he’d said, this he could work with.

 

About twenty minutes later, Clint turned to him shyly, and asked, biting his lip, “Are you really okay with… everything?”

 

Phil nodded sincerely. “Of course I am. I’m just glad you felt like you could be honest with me. You’ll tell me if _you_ aren’t okay with this, right?”

 

Clint nodded in reply. “Yeah,” he signed. “And thank you. I’m really glad this doesn’t have to ruin anything between us.”

 

“Never,” Phil answered. “You’re the most important person in the world to me, okay? If you think I’d let something as silly as sexual attraction get in the way of _us_ , you need to open your eyes.”

 

Clint smiled and reached in for a hug. Phil returned it enthusiastically, a warm feeling rising in his chest.

 

As Phil finished up his pizza and eventually fell asleep on Clint’s shoulder, all he could think about was how glad he was that he’d finally worked up the nerve to say something. _This is what my life gets to be now_ , he thought in awe as Clint took the step for him and reached around Phil to hold him by the shoulders. _I get to have this_.


	2. Chapter 2

Clint pushed the vent cover on the S.H.I.E.L.D. compound ceiling out of the way and swung down in front of Natasha’s bed, where she was sitting cross-legged, sharpening her knives. He collapsed backwards onto the bed and let out a melodramatic sigh to cover up how very real the pain was.

 

He lay there for a moment before turning his head towards Natasha, checking to see if she was paying him any attention. She wasn’t looking at him, but when he narrowed his eyes in irritation, she seemed to sense it, and put down the knife to look at him.

 

“What?” she signed, looking for all the world like the question was being dragged unceremoniously out of her. Clint knew better. He knew she secretly cared.

 

He rolled over to face her on the bed.

 

“It happened,” he answered. He had to blink back the tears threatening to form. That seemed to be the only clue Natasha needed – she had a pretty good idea of what sorts of things Clint let himself get mopey about.

 

“You told him,” she nodded, and it was clear it wasn’t a question.

 

Clint couldn’t say any more as his face crumpled and he dove into the covers to hide in shame.

 

He felt Natasha’s hand pat his back awkwardly, and he had to appreciate her for trying. Love was something that was new to Natasha, and the fact that she couldn’t hide behind a mask with Clint left her feeling vulnerable and uneasy. He knew if she were just going through the motions she could play the part of the comforting friend no problem – hell, she could play any part so long as it was just a part – so the fact that she was clearly struggling made it mean all the more.

 

Clint took several shaky breaths into the covers before he felt in control enough to sit up and look at her.

 

“So it didn’t go well,” Natasha prompted, not unkindly.

 

All of a sudden Clint couldn’t keep any of the words in for another second. He started signing rapidly enough that even Phil probably wouldn’t have been able to follow him – but of course he knew that Natasha would.

 

“He _asked me out_ ,” he complained. “ _He_ actually asked _me_ out, Natasha, he likes me! He said he did. Well, not in so many words I guess, but he said the word date, so he clearly likes me. Otherwise it wouldn’t make sense. But then I told him – I told him there was something I needed to tell him and then I told him – you know… And then his whole body slumped like _I_ was blowing _him_ off or something – even though I _told_ him I liked him, I was just asexual, you know – and he was all ‘It’s okay, Clint,’ and ‘I understand, Clint,’ and ‘I hope I haven’t done anything to make you uncomfortable, Clint,’ and then he just stopped! He just stopped and he didn’t ask me out again, and he didn’t try to tell me we could make it work, or even that he’d think about it – I mean, obviously I’d understand if he had to think about it, but he didn’t even bother – he just said we should watch TV and that it wouldn’t ruin our friendship or whatever. And it’s not like anything’s changed, because I never thought we could be… you know… but it’s like I’ve lost that last thread of hope and it’s just all gone and it just _sucks._ ”

 

Clint fell back onto the bed and kicked and punched at the air before collapsing with a groan.

 

“ _Little bird_ ,” Natasha signed the nickname at him in Russian Sign Language, before continuing in the more familiar (to Clint, anyway) ASL. “I’m sorry.”

 

That did it for Clint. He didn’t have the energy to pretend to be strong for even one more second, so he just burst into tears and lunged for Natasha. She must have truly been in a very placating mood, because instead of flipping him onto the ground, she just leaned back and let him bury his soon-to-be-snotty face in her chest.

 

Clint let himself cry for ages, let himself lose track of time, and let himself feel safe in Natasha’s arms. He sobbed out every feeling he’d been bottling up for Phil for the last decade, and by the time the tears stopped coming, he felt completely wrung out and exhausted. Still, he knew Natasha wasn’t going to let him get away that easily. Not now that he’d started.

 

He pulled back into a seated position and wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

 

“Thanks,” he ducked his head to avoid too much eye contact as he tried to pull himself together.

 

“Of course,” Natasha replied. “So… Phil rejected you when he found out you’re ace. That’s really shitty.”

 

Clint shrugged. “It’s not his fault,” he reasoned. “Phil can’t help what he needs from a relationship any more than I can. If he needs someone who can be sexually attracted to him, then that’s what he needs. At least he was honest with me. It’s just… it really sucks right now, you know? I love him _so_ much.”

 

Natasha nodded. “So what are you going to do about it?” she asked.

 

“I don’t know,” Clint shrugged. “I guess I’ll just have to get over it, right? Be his friend, act like he didn’t break my heart, and then eventually everything’ll be fine. I mean, even after everything he thought it was cool to fall asleep on my shoulder, so obviously none of this is that big of a deal to him. I’ll just have to pretend the same goes for me too.”

 

“Can you do that?” Natasha asked.

 

Clint thought about it for several moments before answering, “Yeah, I think I can. I mean, I’ve been pretending not to be in love with him for years, right? I can pretend to be okay with this now. I mean, even if we were together, what would I really want to change? Maybe the occasional kiss or a cuddle here and there, and it would be nice to have the security that he’s not just going to fall in love with someone else and leave me… but then again, people in relationships fall in love with other people and leave each other all the time. Phil and I are solid, this is good. I have pretty much everything I want, so I can be happy with that.”

 

Natasha leaned forward and ruffled his hair, and even through the pangs of heartbreak, Clint couldn’t help thinking that _yeah, my life is pretty good._

 

“So, want to spar?” Natasha asked suddenly, perking up. “I’ve been working on a new move that I want to try out on someone who actually stands a chance against me in a fight. The new crop of junior agents are all wimps, there’s no point.”

 

Clint smirked. “Sure, what’s the move?”

 

Natasha just rolled her eyes as she stood up to grab her bag, tied her hair up in a quick ponytail, and then turned to Clint with an eyebrow raised. “If I told you, it would hardly be a surprise, now would it?”

 

Then she stalked out the door like the predator everyone at S.H.I.E.L.D. thought she was. Only Clint was allowed to know differently.

 

Clint bounded after her, shaking off the headache that had come from crying so much, and thought, _fuck, I have the best friends._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Phil introduces Clint to a friend who doesn't really get how to talk to a Deaf person (though they aren't malicious or anything).

Phil shut down his computer and packed up his things, glancing over at the clock as he did so. 6:00. This was earlier than he’d left the office in a long time, but sometimes these things were necessary. Besides, he was too big a mess of nerves and excitement to be able to concentrate on brief filings for another minute.

 

He was going to ask Clint out to dinner.

 

Since he and Clint had talked a week before, Phil had spent every spare minute researching. He knew enough about asexuality to know it wasn’t the same as being aromantic, but that was about it.

 

He’d gone online and quickly discovered a website called AVEN, and had branched out from there into multimedia resources. He’d read a couple of self-help books, a law school paper on the incidental discriminatory effects of the legal system on asexual people in the US, and a web comic about an ace guy in the BDSM scene. He’d watched several clips of some show about a talking horse (he really didn’t understand the point of the show, but the information on asexuality was helpful). He’d even gone to a social gathering for asexuals in East Harlem, where he’d been able to ask some questions and get a few answers (an unsurprising number of which came down to “talk to your partner about it”).

 

He was going to make sure he was ready for this relationship.

 

The only problem was the talking to Clint bit.

 

It wasn’t that Phil hadn’t _tried_ to talk to Clint – he had. The few times he’d been able to track Clint down this week (he’d been surprisingly busy), he’d tried to bring it up, only to have Clint change the subject. It seemed like it was a sore subject for him, and while Phil knew they wouldn’t be able to avoid talking about it forever, he also didn’t want to make Clint uncomfortable by forcing the conversation.

 

So he resolved to take it slow, and let Clint guide things for a while. Including, hopefully, letting Phil know when he was ready to have a real discussion of boundaries.

 

In the meantime, Phil wasn’t going to push. Clint had made it sound like even the closed-mouth kissing they’d done in the field was only okay because it was for work, so Phil expected that Clint fell under the broadly “sex-repulsed” category of asexuality, and that many of the things typically associated with a romantic relationship would be out of the question. What mattered to Phil was getting to be with Clint, so he’d just have to hold back on anything else until Clint either made a move or agreed to talk about it.

 

That was why tonight the plan was to take Clint out to one of Phil’s favorite restaurants, a hole-in-the-wall late-night diner that he’d found a few years ago when he’d arrived home from a mission in the middle of the night and everything else was closed. One of the books Phil had read had talked about “love languages”, and that had struck a chord with Phil. If sex was out as a way of showing Clint how much he loved him, he was going to find other ways to make Clint feel appreciated. In this case, food.

 

He strolled into the shooting range, where he knew Clint would be. He had just come home from a quick overnight mission – a basic recon op – and the only thing that kept Clint out of the range right after a mission was if he was forced into Medical. Phil had never quite figured out why that was – shouldn’t Clint be tired after a mission? – but if that was what Clint found he needed to decompress, it was certainly healthier than some of the things Phil had done in the past. Besides, it did have the helpful side effect of meaning that Phil always knew exactly where to find Clint to debrief.

 

Sure enough, Clint was running a simulation when Phil walked in, working up a sweat that gleamed on his forearms, attractive even under the harsh lighting of the range.

 

He let himself watch under the vague pretence that he might be able to offer Clint some kind of advice on his technique. _Yeah, right_ , a voice in the back of his mind supplied helpfully. Oh, well.

 

“ _Hey boss, what’s up?_ ” Clint called out eventually in a rough voice, throwing his bow into the quiver on his back and jogging over to Phil. As he pulled up in front of him, Clint used the back of his arm to wipe some of the sweat off his forehead, a move which only served to make the front of his hair stand up.

 

“Clint,” Phil signed back to him. “How was the mission?”

 

“All clear, boss,” Clint answered, switching into ASL himself. “Nothing nefarious, just a health retreat like the brochures said. Slightly disturbing and cult-like, but… not an actual cult as far as I could tell.”

 

“Glad to hear it,” Phil answered. Clint quirked an eyebrow, presumably at the turn of phrase, but didn’t make an effort to correct him.

 

“So,” Phil continued, “I was wondering if you’d like to get dinner with me? There’s this restaurant nearby that I thought you might like… it’s a secret favorite of mine.”

 

Clint lit up, though Phil wasn’t sure if it was at the date idea or the mere prospect of food. In any case, he let out a sigh of relief when Clint agreed. Even though Clint had accepted when Phil had asked him out earlier, there was still something slightly nerve-wracking about moving things out of the abstract.

 

“Great,” signed Phil. “I’ll let you get showered and organized, and then you can meet me at my office? I just need to run a couple of things by Agent Hill, and then I’m ready to go.”

 

Clint nodded. “That sounds great.”

 

“Perfect,” Phil smiled. “See you soon then.”

 

Not more than ten minutes later, Phil turned the corner to his office only to find Clint already leaning against the door frame, hair still dripping wet from what must have been an extremely quick shower. Phil tried to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat at the idea that Clint was so eager.

 

Of course, he could just be hungry.

 

“So where to, boss?” Clint asked. Phil had to roll his eyes.

 

“Clint, please. I think you can call me Phil.”

 

Clint shrugged exaggeratedly. “Okay, Phil then. Lead the way, I’m starving.” He waved his arms in a gesture for Phil to proceed.

 

“So how have the last couple of days been?” Phil asked as they walked towards the elevator. “I haven’t seen you since before yesterday’s mission came up.”

 

They chatted as they walked, and Phil found himself getting lost in the expressiveness of Clint’s face. He reveled in the fact that he could stare all he wanted now without having to worry about when he would cross the line between watching Clint just to understand him and being creepy.

 

Soon, they arrived at the restaurant, and Rory, the owner of the place, greeted them.

 

“ _Phil!_ ” they waved, coming over to grab a couple of menus and bring the two of them to a booth. They noticed Clint signing, and looked at Phil in sudden amusement.

 

“ _So this must be your coworker, then_ ,” they smirked, then turned to Clint. “Nice to meet you,” they signed awkwardly.

 

Clint laughed. “ _It’s okay_ ,” he said. “ _I can read lips. Just make sure you’re facing me_.”

 

“ _Oh!_ ” Rory exclaimed a little too loudly. “ _Sorry. I just thought… Phil learned sign language f – I mean…_ ”

 

Phil blushed crimson, but luckily Clint was looking at Rory.

 

“ _Phil and I work closely together_ ,” Clint said. “ _And we’ve been best friends for years. I’m used to accommodating strangers_.”

 

“ _Right_ ,” Rory had the decency to look sheepish. “ _Sorry about that_.”

 

“ _It’s fine, really_ ,” Clint assured them, cutting them a lot more slack than Phil wanted to, given how ridiculously common this conversation seemed to be anytime he and Clint went out together. “ _So, you’ve known Phil for a long time then?_ ”

 

Rory grabbed a couple menus, turning their back to lead them to a booth in the back corner. Looking back over their shoulder, but not far enough for Clint to effectively read their lips, they called, “ _Yeah, Phil came in here a few years ago, exhausted, and –_ ”

 

Clint rolled his eyes and looked over to Phil, who immediately began interpreting to the best of his ability.

 

“- _and the rest is history_ ,” Rory finished as Clint and Phil sat down across from each other. “ _So, did you two know what you wanted to drink? Or shall I give you a couple minutes?_ ”

 

“ _Coke, please,_ ” Clint asked, and Phil ordered an iced tea for himself. He then turned to Clint as Rory walked off.

 

“I’m so sorry about that,” he signed, embarrassed. “I promise they’re not usually like that…”

 

Clint just shook his head. “Don’t worry about it,” he answered. “Not everyone gets it right away, I’m used to it.”

 

Phil didn’t want Clint to have to be used to it. Still, he supposed telling him that wasn’t exactly helpful, so instead he changed the subject to the menu.

 

“The portabella burger is delicious,” he suggested. “I’ve been told the bacon burger isn’t bad either. Or there’s great strawberry waffles if you’re feeling breakfast for dinner?”

 

Clint was, in fact, feeling breakfast for dinner. They ordered, and then shifted the conversation towards the recent announcement that the powers that be were making a _Dog Cops_ movie. While Clint expounded on his anxieties as to the various ways they could screw it up and ruin the entire franchise, Phil moved his leg under the table so that his knee was gently pressing against Clint’s. Clint didn’t flinch or move away, so Phil figured the touch wasn’t unwelcome, and let his leg linger there. He revelled in the feeling for the rest of the meal.

 

When the bill came, Phil didn’t let Clint see it before pulling out his card and handing it to Rory.

 

“Hey,” Clint protested. “I should at least pay my half.”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Phil smiled. “I invited you here, after all. You can get the next one.”

 

“Fine,” Clint huffed. “You know, Rory seemed perfectly nice. Maybe didn’t know much about Deaf people, but hey, they tried, right? That matters. It’s all good, Phil. I get why you like it here.”

 

Phil let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. The idea of introducing Clint to the people who made up the other parts of his life caused something to stir deep inside him. He could tell Clint knew that this introduction was important to him, and was probably being placating for his sake more than anything, but he appreciated it all the same.

 

Unwilling to let the date be over, Phil offered to walk Clint home.

 

He couldn’t help the just-this-side-of-too-big smile that spread on his face when Clint accepted.

 

\---

 

At the door to Clint’s apartment, Clint didn’t ask Phil to kiss him, so Phil didn’t try.

 

When Phil finally got home to his own apartment, he collapsed against the back of the door, weak at the knees and more in love than ever.

 


	4. Chapter 4

“Hey, Clint,” Phil signed as they made their way into the changing rooms after an intense sparring session. Well, it had been intense for Phil, anyway. As good as Phil was at strategy, Clint was still quicker and stronger, and had always had an advantage when the two of them sparred. Oh, well, it kept Phil’s ego in check.

 

“Yeah, boss?” Clint questioned.

 

“You heard that May’s getting married, right?”

 

Clint’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Agent May?” he asked. “I didn’t think she’d ever get married again after everything with Andrew.”

 

“Neither did any of us,” Phil agreed. “But she’s marrying someone from IT. Jason. I’ve spent some time with the two of them, and he seems like a good guy, for what it’s worth.”

 

“Wow, that’s awesome,” Clint signed. “I’m really happy for her.”

 

“Yeah, so I’m invited to the wedding, and I have a plus one. I was wondering if you might like to go with me?” Phil bit his lip, knowing that this was a bit of a milestone. He and Clint hadn’t been dating long, but then again, Phil had been in love with him for years, so it wasn’t as though he didn’t feel pretty confident in his own feelings, at least.

 

“Ooh,” Clint answered, giving an exaggerated wag of his eyebrows. “I get to be your date?”

 

Phil rolled his eyes. “Well yeah,” he answered. “Who else would I ask?”

 

“Fair enough,” Clint accepted. “So when and where is it?”

 

“Next Saturday. And it’s local, I figured I could drive us in Lola.”

 

“Damn, Phil, pullin’ out all the stops. If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were trying to seduce me.” Clint waved a hand in front of his face dramatically as though he were fanning himself. Phil just barely kept himself from rolling his eyes again.

 

“Pick you up around 10?” he asked.

 

“Perfect. Looking forward to it,” Clint answered.

 

Great, that was one thing dealt with. Now he just had to make it through the wedding.

 

\---

 

As promised, Phil arrived to pick Clint up at 10 am sharp, parking Lola and running upstairs to ring Clint’s doorbell – like a gentleman. He’d even brought flowers, and when Clint opened the door and saw them, he grinned widely and shoved his face into them, rather more roughly than Phil thought was necessary to get a good sniff. As Phil had suspected, he didn’t own a vase – which only meant that he lit up even further when Phil pulled one out of his bag and walked over to the sink to fill it. Soon, there was a beautiful bouquet of purple lilacs, lavender and delphinium sitting on the windowsill, and Clint was wearing a boutonnière made out of the same.

 

As they walked downstairs, Phil skipped the last couple of steps in order to get ahead of Clint and open Lola’s passenger side door for him. Clint laughed and gave a small curtsey before sitting down, and Phil’s heart warmed as, circling the car to get into the driver’s seat, he noticed Clint give Lola an appreciative pat.

 

It wasn’t long before they arrived at the wedding. Phil wasn’t surprised to see how many of the other guests he knew from work, but Clint seemed to tense up, which worried Phil. Was he not ready for people to know about the two of them? Phil could certainly accept that if it was the case.

 

“Everything okay?” he signed discreetly.

 

Luckily, Clint seemed to relax almost as quickly as he’d stiffened. “Yeah,” he answered. “Just not used to seeing _quite_ so many of my bosses on my day off. I hadn’t planned a single prank or anything.”

 

“Please don’t,” he mused. “But seriously, is this going to be all right? Because if –”

 

“It’s fine, Phil, seriously,” Clint assured him. “I promise, I’m perfectly capable of socializing with the big kids. Hell, if my experience with bosses outside of work is anything to go by, they’re all secretly cuddly pizza-lovers with frankly disturbing Captain America memorabilia collections.”

 

Phil sighed, and Clint reached in to kiss him on the cheek in apology. Phil’s heart pounded, and he noticed Clint’s own ears turn red. He looked around and saw a few eyes looking back in their direction.

 

The ceremony was beautiful, and at the outdoor reception, Phil was glad to see that Clint seemed perfectly comfortable despite the large number of high-ranking S.H.I.E.L.D. officials in their midst. He did, admittedly, seem to spend most of his time mingling with a group that seemed to be Jason’s friends from the IT department, but Phil could hardly blame Clint for that. He had never been entirely comfortable with authority figures, and even after Phil had no longer been his handler, Clint had continued to come almost exclusively to him for work-related questions and concerns. It really drove home for him the level of trust he and Clint had developed over the years.

 

Besides, it looked like Clint was having a perfectly enjoyable time wiping the floor with the entirety of the IT department at beer pong.

 

Which seemed hardly fair, really.

 

He downed the rest of his glass of wine and gave a quick goodbye to Nick and Jasper, whom he had been chatting with, and went to go see if Clint needed another person on his team. Just to even out the odds for the other team, slightly.

 

Even with Phil on his team, they still barely missed a shot, and soon Gola, who seemed to be the unofficial leader of the other team, was tipsily suggesting they all sit down for a few minutes. Phil checked in with Clint, who was happy to continue chatting with the group, so Phil left him to go grab a couple of drinks and plates of snacks for the two of them.

 

At the snack table, he ran into May, who had changed for the reception into a glamorous dark green dress, which Phil remembered her wearing for a mission once, and so knew exactly how much damage she could do in it. But he supposed that also meant that it was flexible enough to dance in, which was more likely her goal in this case.

 

“ _So_ ,” she said as he reached for a couple of sausage rolls for Clint. “ _Barton, hmm?_ ”

 

He felt his cheeks turn pink, but May just smiled.

 

“ _Relax, Coulson, I know you’ve been in love with him forever_ ,” she said. “ _I’m just glad to see you finally got your act together and asked him out_.” She gave him a friendly punch to the shoulder.

 

“ _Thanks, Melinda_ ,” he said.  “ _But hey, today’s not about me – congratulations! You must be over the moon right now_.”

 

She shrugged. “ _It’s all a little overwhelming at the moment, to be honest_ ,” she admitted. “ _But that’s just weddings – I’m sure it’ll all sink in later and I’ll be thrilled. Not that I get to enjoy the honeymoon period for long – did you hear I got that op in the Antarctic?_ ”

 

“ _Oh, wow, congratulations!_ ” Phil exclaimed. “ _That’s amazing – I know it meant a lot to you._ ”

 

May nodded, smiling. “ _Yeah, if this goes well, I have a real shot at Deputy Director when Hill goes over to Stark Industries._ ”

 

“ _Hey, no one deserves it more than you_ ,” Phil said. “ _And I, for one, will be glad to get to work side-by-side with you again_.”

 

“ _Thanks, Phil_ ,” she replied. “ _Right now I’m just trying not to jinx things. I always get a little anxious when too many things are coming up Melinda, you know?_ ”

 

“ _Yeah, I hear you_ ,” Phil agreed.

 

“ _Speaking of_ ,” Melinda said, “ _Shouldn’t you be getting back to your beau over there? Wouldn’t want him getting bored without you_.”

 

Phil smiled. “ _I think he can handle himself just fine, but you’re right, I should make sure he isn’t causing trouble_.” He leaned over to give May a quick hug before carefully picking up his things. “ _And seriously, congratulations. On both the op and the wedding_.”

 

May moved in the direction of the dance floor, and Phil walked the opposite direction back towards where Clint was now teaching Gola cartwheels. He lit up as soon as he saw Phil coming with the food.

 

“ _Yay, gimme!_ ” Clint called as Phil approached. Phil handed him a plate. “ _Mmm, thanks, Phil, I love you_.”

 

Even though he knew Clint probably didn’t really mean it that way – it was just something you said when there was food in the picture – his heart stopped for a moment.

 

“ _I love you too_ ,” he said back, with meaning.

 

\---

 

After the reception, Phil drove Clint back to his place, and Clint invited him to come upstairs.

 

“ _Dogs Cops_ and pizza?” he’d asked.

 

Phil readily agreed, and soon Clint was lying across the sofa with his head in Phil’s lap, both of them with full stomachs half-heartedly watching an episode of _Dog Cops_.

 

Out of nowhere, Clint sighed, rolled onto his back to look at Phil, and signed, “I think I’d like to get married someday.”

 

Phil’s heart caught in his throat. Again, Phil knew Clint wasn’t referring to their relationship specifically, but still – that was a pretty major thing to tell the person you’re dating, even if you do happen to be best friends too.

 

“Yeah,” he replied, aiming for quiet detachment and probably missing by a mile. “Me too.”

 

Not long after, Clint was asleep on his lap. Phil figured he was staying the night.


	5. Chapter 5

Clint was at the grocery store with Phil. Phil had agreed to make them dinner tonight – he was making burgers and sweet potato fries from scratch – so they were out looking for fresh ingredients. Clint was excited – it had been a long time since he’d had a real homemade meal that he didn’t have to make himself, and he knew from experience that Phil was a great cook when he wanted to be.

 

“I’m going to go look at vegetables,” Phil signed. “Can you pick out the condiments you want? All I have at home is ketchup and mustard. And whatever you want to drink.”

 

“You got it, boss!” Clint replied. He loved calling Phil “boss” during their off-time – it always made Phil get that adorable crinkly face he made whenever he was trying to decide whether to humor Clint.

 

Sure enough, Phil made the face, and Clint turned to go look for condiments, grinning widely. He quickly found the mayonnaise and relish and, throwing them in his basket, went to look for booze. He was scouring the wine selection (Phil loved wine) when he saw a familiar face.

 

“ _Yo-yo, hi!_ ” he called out, waving. Her English was fast-improving since she’d been at S.H.I.E.L.D., but she hadn’t yet had the time to work on her ASL in any concerted way.

 

“ _Hawkeye_ ,” she replied, approaching him. “ _What are you doing here?_ ”

 

“ _I’m here with Coulson_ ,” Clint said. “ _He’s making burgers tonight, so we’re getting ingredients._ ”

 

Yo-yo looked intrigued. “ _Is there a party happening? A barbecue?_ ”

 

“ _No, no_ ,” Clint answered. “ _It’s just for him and me. We’re doing a movie night, but we figured we’ve had enough pizza over the last couple weeks, it was time to do something homemade. ‘Course, that usually means I just give him puppy dog eyes until he agrees to do all the actual making, but I think it’s good for him. Reminds him who’s really boss around here, you know?_ ”

 

“ _So you two are together?_ ” Yo-yo asked. “ _Like boyfriends? I didn’t know_.”

 

That threw Clint. His strategy for dealing with Phil’s rejection over the last couple of months had mostly been to _suppress, suppress, suppress._ So he wasn’t exactly prepared to be reminded of what he had almost had.

 

Though frankly, it was getting harder and harder to suppress anything at all lately, what with Phil being all touchy, and taking him out for dinners all the time, and inviting him to a fucking wedding, and _opening car doors for him_. He’d been trying to play it all off as just an extension of their already very close friendship, but if he really stopped to think about it, he’d have to admit that it was killing him inside just a little.

 

“ _No, no_ ,” he told Yo-yo, aiming for casual (and, if he did say so himself, doing a pretty damn good job of it, thank you very much). “ _Phil and I are friends. Best friends, I mean, so I get how you’d get there, but he’s not my boyfriend. That’s – no, that’s sweet, but – no_.”

 

“ _Ah_ ,” was all Yo-yo said as she nodded, looking over Clint’s shoulder. He turned and saw Phil, looking at him like he was in pain. It was quickly covered over with a smile in Yo-yo’s direction, but not quickly enough for Hawkeye to miss it.

 

“ _Yo-yo_ ,” Phil said. “ _It’s good to see you. I hope you’re having a good weekend?_ ”

 

The three of them chatted for a bit, but eventually they split off to finish the rest of their shopping. Phil was uncharacteristically quiet – okay, he could be quiet when he wanted to, especially when Clint was on the comms and trying to get him to crack – but this was different, all right? Clint could tell. He seemed… tense.

 

It wasn’t until they got home – to Phil’s place – and had put all the groceries away that Phil brought anything up. And when he did, it was… confusing, to say the least.

 

“So,” Phil signed, and Clint could tell it was going to be a serious conversation, so he pulled up a bar stool and sat down. “That stuff with Yo-yo earlier… what was all that about?”

 

Clint frowned. “I’m… not sure I know what you mean, Phil.”

 

Phil sighed. “You said I was your best friend?”

 

“You are my best friend, Phil! Absolutely, you’re the most important person in the world to me. Did you not know that? Shit, I’m sorry, if that’s too much for you, I didn’t mean to –”

 

“No, no,” Phil interrupted. “It’s great, I – you’re my best friend too, Clint. It’s just – I know we haven’t really talked about this, but maybe we should have. I guess I’m just wondering what else we are to each other? You obviously said not boyfriends to Yo-yo, so.” He left the comments on a shrug.

 

_What the hell?_ Clint thought. Phil couldn’t actually be upset at the reminder that they weren’t boyfriends. _He was the one who rejected me!_ _He doesn’t have the right._

 

Clint tried to remind himself that being angry at Phil had never gotten him anywhere good in life, and instead looked at things from his perspective. He supposed even though Phil had _technically_ been the one to shoot Clint down in the end, he had also been the one to ask him out in the first place. Maybe he was still reeling a bit from the whole thing just like Clint was.

 

Okay, then. Phil was just confused and wanted to know what they were to each other. He could do that. Could he? Best friends was sort of the main one as far as he was concerned.

 

“What do you want us to be to each other, Phil?” he asked finally, carefully.

 

“I don’t know,” Phil answered. “Partners, maybe? Would that be okay?”

 

This conversation was officially giving Clint whiplash. _I am not in a smart enough frame of mind to be dealing with this right now_ , he thought.

 

Because, yeah, he supposed they were partners, kind of no matter how you looked at it. Well, other than romantically. But they still worked closely together in what you could probably call a partnership, and as friends, they were important enough to each other that it probably wasn’t strictly speaking unfair to call them partners. It was just a weird thing to ask.

 

Maybe in Phil’s mind that was a step up from best friends or something. Trying to get at the fact that they’d more or less infiltrated every aspect of each other’s lives.

 

It was still a weird thing for Phil to care about, but then again, Phil had been through a lot over the years. Maybe this was a trust issues thing?

 

Well, whatever it was, he didn’t see any reason to deny Phil the label he apparently needed.

 

“Yeah,” he signed. “Partners. Partners sounds good.”

 

The relieved smile Phil gave him told him it was the right call.

 

“Great. So then,” Phil asked, “Would it be okay if that’s how I introduce you to people? Or if that’s what I call you to people like Yo-yo?”

 

“Yeah, Phil,” Clint nodded, really failing to understand why this was such a big deal. “Hell, call me whatever you want. Just not boyfriend, yeah?” he joked.

 

“Yeah, of course,” Phil agreed.

 

The rest of the night, Phil was much more at ease than he had been since they’d seen Yo-yo at the store. And really, that was all that mattered to Clint.

 

_Partners_ , he thought later that night, rolling the word around in his brain as he was falling asleep on Phil’s couch. Yeah, he supposed that all things considered, that did sound pretty good.


	6. Chapter 6

“ _So_ ,” Jasper said after he’d finished up briefing Phil on the new S.H.I.E.L.D. security measures. “ _Heard about you and Barton. Tell me honestly: how’s the sex?_ ” He waggled his eyebrows.

 

“ _Shut up, Sitwell_ ,” was Phil’s answer.

 

Jasper just laughed. “ _What, that bad? Here I thought Barton’d be great in the sack. He’s sure enough of a flirt. And even I can admit he’s not bad to look at_.”

 

“ _I said_ shut up _, Sitwell_ ,” Phil snapped. Jasper sobered immediately.

 

“ _Shit, I’m sorry, Phil_ ,” he said. “ _Didn’t realize you really didn’t want to talk about it. My bad_.”

 

“ _It’s fine. I’m just not comfortable discussing this, all right?_ ”

 

“ _Sure, no worries_ ,” Jasper assured him. “ _But hey, it’s almost Valentine’s Day. Hope you have plans? Not the sexy kind, I mean – just plans._ ”

 

At this, Phil smiled softly. “ _I have a few ideas up my sleeve_.”

 

\---

 

It was Thursday morning, and Clint was casually shimmying through the air vents of S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters when he heard Phil’s voice from below him.

 

“ _Barton, I know you’re up there_.”

 

How the hell had he known? Clint prided himself on making next to no noise during his various explorations of the ventilation system, thank you very much, and no one else – not even Natasha – appeared to be able to tell where he was at any given moment. Why could Phil _always tell_?

 

Ah, well. He pulled open a nearby opening and lowered himself gracefully from the vent with one hand, using the other to slide it closed as he jumped to the ground in front of Phil.

 

Because _of course_ Phil also knew exactly where he’d come out from.

 

“Grab everything you need to fly a quinjet and meet me at the loading bay in ten,” he signed.

 

Clint immediately straightened, shifting into what he referred to as Agent Mode.

 

“Do we have an op, sir?” he asked, already moving in the direction of the equipment rooms.

 

But then Phil softened and smiled. “No,” he answered, following. “I just thought we’d play hooky for the day, and my plans require high-speed air travel.”

 

Clint blinked. For a split second, he almost thought Phil was being sarcastic, but no, that was his bad boy voice coming out. God, how Clint loved that bad boy voice. One thing was certain when that voice started making an appearance – fun would be had.

 

“May I ask where we’re going, sir?” he teased Phil with the honorific – it never failed to get under his skin, though Clint knew it didn’t really bother him particularly.

 

“You ever heard of Bath, England?”

 

“Like where the Roman baths are? Sure, I’ve heard of it. Fancy healing springs or whatever. What’re we doing there?”

 

“Well,” Phil smiled conspiratorially, “Did you know one of the things people used to do there was use lead paper to write curses against people, and then throw them into the baths asking the local goddess, Sulis Minerva, to rain her wrath down upon them?”

 

No, Clint did not know that.

 

“No, I did _not_ know that!” he replied, jaw hanging to the ground, and then punched Phil playfully on the shoulder for good measure. “We get to curse people? Oh my God, I have so many people to curse. Hmm… how should I make them suffer? Ooh! I could make them constantly feel like they’ve forgotten something, but they’ll never be able to think of what… or wait! What if I make their favorite food suddenly taste terrible to them, but only every third time they eat it so they don’t want to stop? Oh, this is good. I have so many plans. Wait – you said used to. We are going to get to curse people, right?”

 

He could tell Phil was trying to hold back laughter, and it wasn’t a good look on him. Clint narrowed his eyes, plotting how he would curse Phil.

 

“I got us special permission,” Phil answered finally. _Thank goodness_ , Clint thought. He had far too many ideas.

 

“You’re the best!” he launched forward and wrapped Phil up in a giant bear hug. When he released him, Phil was smiling widely.

 

“I also booked us for massages at one of the local spas,” he signed. “Though I sort of figured the cursing would be the highlight.”

 

Phil was right, but damn, a massage sounded good right about now too. He’d had a long couple of weeks with two major ops back-to-back, and his bow arm was feeling the strain from them.

 

This was going to be the best day of hooky ever.

 

\---

 

In the end, it turned out to be everything Clint had hoped for and more. The only tense moment had come when Clint had grabbed a stylus to write on the lead tablets that were used for the curses, and had suddenly worried that the goddess – okay, okay, he knew this wasn’t one of the _real_ goddesses, he still wanted to play it out properly, all right? – wouldn’t be able to read his writing. Combine his dyslexia with the fact that English wasn’t actually his first language, and spelling wasn’t exactly his forte. He’d quietly slid the tablet and stylus over to Phil and asked if he wouldn’t mind taking dictation.

 

Phil had seemed to read his mind, because all he’d signed in reply, passing the materials back to Clint, was, “You know, they’ve actually found a bunch of old tablets here that they’re pretty sure were written by people with dyslexia. Besides, language has shifted a ton in the thousand years this all has been here. I’m pretty sure the goddess will be able to read your curses just fine.”

 

Clint had smiled softly and signed, “Thanks, Phil.” He’d then spent over an hour coming up with the perfect curses for all the horrible people he’d met in his life (and a few people he just kind of wanted to annoy).

 

It had been _great_.

 

Now, Clint was lying alone in bed, reminiscing on the day. He hadn’t had that much fun in a while. Who knew Phil Coulson was still one to play hooky? Clint had certainly heard tell of some of his wilder days, but he’d sort of thought the days of ditching work at least were behind him. Not that Phil didn’t still find ways to bring plenty of excitement into his ops whenever he had the chance, so perhaps claiming that his “wilder days” were over was unfair.

 

Clint felt his phone buzz in his pocket and pulled it out. A text from Natasha. He opened it up to see a photo attached. When he enlarged it, he saw it was actually a Valentine’s Day card – one that read, _You are my favorite pain in the ass_ , and, in Natasha’s handwriting below it, _Happy Valentine’s Day, Little Bird!_

 

Clint smiled at the kind gesture. Actually, he’d completely forgotten it was Valentine’s Day. He did a quick Google search and found a good image to send back to her. This one read, _If you got stung by a jellyfish, I would totally pee on you_. Then he sent a blue heart emoji for good measure.

 

Then he sent one off to Phil. It was a picture of two people getting dressed back to back, with a caption that read, _This Valentine’s Day let me remind you our relationship is purely sexual_. He second guessed himself about thirteen times before sending it – was it inappropriate given the whole getting rejected over sex thing? – but then he decided it was funny and, hell, the joke was mostly on him anyway, so he could send it if he wanted.

 

He didn’t have to wait long for a reply. Just a couple minutes later, he opened a text from Phil to see just one word: _Asshole_. As he was thinking up a reply, an image file came in: another Valentine, this one reading _I love you unconditionally*_ and then, near the bottom, _*Terms and conditions do apply_.

 

Clint sent an eyeroll emoji, followed by the words _Love you too, Phil. Happy Valentine’s Day_.

 

_Happy Valentine’s Day_ , came Phil’s reply.

 

Clint fell asleep smiling.


	7. Chapter 7

“So…” Phil started, wiping his hands dry and turning to sign after he and Clint had finished washing dishes. It had been the third dinner they’d shared at Phil’s place this week. And, Phil thought, hopefully it would be the third time this week that Clint would end up staying over.

 

Clint looked up at him questioningly and dried off the last plate, putting it away before hopping up on the counter to face Phil.

 

_This doesn’t make me super creepy, right?_ Phil asked himself. Well, there was only one way to find out. (Okay, maybe there were other ways, but Phil was diving in nose first on this one.)

 

“I may have possibly checked with Natasha, who may have possibly confirmed that your lease is up at the end of the month?” It was already the 22nd of March, which meant that the end of the month was fast approaching.

 

“Uh, yeah,” Clint answered, shrugging his shoulders. “I mean, technically I’m the landlord now, and I haven’t listed the place or anything, so I was kind of planning to just keep living there after the contract runs out. Come to think of it, I’m actually not sure the contract didn’t legally cease to exist when I bought the place… well, either way, it’s not like I’m planning on suing me. Maybe I’ll ask someone at legal someday just out of curiosity.”

 

_Right_ , Phil thought. He’d known for ages that Clint owned his whole building, he wasn’t really sure why it hadn’t crossed his mind that that would make the lease question irrelevant. Well, that sort of screwed up the whole thing he had planned. Still, he’d started the conversation now – might as well see it through.

 

“Right,” he responded. “I guess that makes sense. Maybe this is pointless in that case, but I’d sort of wondered if you might like to move in with me?”

 

Clint’s eyes widened, but he looked receptive, so Phil continued.

 

“I just… you’ve been spending so much time over here anyway,” he reasoned. “It just sort of seems to make sense. And then I wouldn’t have to cook for one anymore, and… well, you know, I do have the extra space. And you could rent out your current place, make a little bit of extra money.”

 

When Phil finished, Clint was biting his lip. He seemed to be considering the idea, so Phil turned to wipe the counter down while he let him think. When he turned back, Clint was looking up at him.

 

“Okay,” he answered. “I mean, not the part about me renting out my place. I want to keep it, as, like, a safehouse of sorts. It’s… possible I have a bunch of them all over the world. I mean, not that I’d go to my own apartment building if someone was actually after me, but you never know when you’re going to need a place to crash. Like the next time there’s an alien invasion or something. This place could get hit. I know that sounds stupid, it’s not like we couldn’t stay at HQ, but…”

 

“You like to be prepared,” Phil finished the sentence for him. “It’s okay, I get it. I know just having the option of keeping yourself safe still feels kind of new to you. It’s okay to want that, I’m not offended.”

 

“Thanks,” Clint signed. “In that case, I’d love to move in with you. We can be confirmed bachelors together, like in _My Fair Lady_.”

 

Phil laughed at the old euphemism. “Great,” he answered. “I can clear next Saturday and we can move your stuff in? If that works for you.”

 

“Next Saturday’s perfect.”

 

\---

 

Moving day arrived, and Phil pulled up bright and early at Clint’s building in a S.H.I.E.L.D. car (no way was he risking Lola getting hurt during the move). When he went upstairs, Clint already had everything packed and ready to go, so it was only the work of twenty minutes or so to carry all the boxes downstairs to the car. Clint wasn’t bringing any of his furniture with him – Phil had plenty, and he’d rather keep the safehouse furnished in any case.

 

When they got everything back to Phil’s – their – place, Phil was surprised to see that Clint went directly for the spare bedroom. _Huh_ , he thought. _I guess that’s something else we should have talked about_. They still hadn’t sat down and had a real, proper discussion about what Clint’s being asexual meant to their relationship – and Phil knew it had to happen, he did, but at this point Clint had dodged the conversation so many times that he honestly felt like he just needed to wait for Clint to bring it up.

 

Maybe that was just the anxiety talking, but he’d quite thoroughly convinced himself it was for the best.

 

At any rate, Phil supposed he shouldn’t really be surprised that Clint was moving into the spare bedroom – they’d never actually shared a bed before, at least not in the traditional sense. They’d certainly fallen asleep on the couch together plenty, and there had been the odd mission where they’d had no choice but to share, but as a couple? In Phil’s bed? That hadn’t happened.

 

Phil was perfectly okay with the idea of him and Clint having separate rooms, of course – his grandparents had had separate rooms, and they’d been quite clear that it had never meant they loved each other any less. It was just that his Grandma snored like a jackhammer, and his Grandpa was a light sleeper.

 

Still, he had to admit the idea of getting to hold Clint at night had been a pleasant one.

 

He decided not to pursue the issue, but that he would casually mention the option after Clint had settled in and gotten comfortable at the apartment. One major life-changing step at a time.

 

For now, he turned his attention to unpacking a box labelled “books” – Clint’s new room had a decent sized shelving unit, and as long as he got Clint’s go-ahead to just sort by author’s last name, this was something he probably couldn’t screw up. He’d long since learned that you should always leave people to do their own interior decorating.

 

\---

 

His chance to raise the sleeping arrangements issue came sooner than he had anticipated when, not three weeks later, the heating in Clint’s bedroom went out. Luckily, it seemed to be the radiator itself that was the problem, so at least the rest of the apartment was unaffected.

 

When Clint came out of his room after a shower that evening, shivering and with a blanket draped around his shoulders, Phil figured suggesting a possible solution wouldn’t be completely out of line.

 

“Hey, Clint, you know you can sleep in my room if you want,” he offered. Clint had to wrap the blanket under his armpits, strapless dress-style, to free his hands to sign.

 

“Really? Thanks, Phil, I might just take you up on that. See how things are tonight, but I wouldn’t put it past me.”

 

Phil smiled. “Sounds good. And, you know, I don’t just mean tonight, or while the heating’s out. You’re welcome to stay with me as often as you like – no pressure, of course, but… I just thought I should mention it.”

 

At this, Clint laughed. “I should have known you were just trying to lure me in for snuggles,” he signed. “Jeez, Phil, you might be the cuddliest confirmed bachelor in New York.”

 

Phil wasn’t sure that wanting to share a bed with his partner was actually all that out of the ordinary, but he decided not to mention it. After all, if Clint really was uncomfortable with the idea of sharing a bed, he didn’t want to make it sound like that made him weird or broken or less desirable. Things were going well, and no way was Phil going to jeopardize it by making Clint think he wasn’t okay with how things were.

 

Phil got lucky, though, because although Clint went to bed on his own that night, Phil was startled awake around two in the morning by Clint nudging him over to the left side of the bed. He checked the time on his clock on the nightstand, rolled over to make room for Clint, and closed his eyes, hoping to fall back asleep as quickly as possible, knowing he had to be up early for work in the morning.

 

Then Clint’s freezing cold feet snuck their way between Phil’s calves, and any hope of falling back to sleep readily was abandoned, as Phil tried to recover from the shock.

 

Still, it turned out that waking up at six in the morning didn’t feel so bad when there was a warm presence holding you tight and purring softly in your ear.

 

It took four days to get someone in to fix the heating in Clint’s bedroom. By the end of the four days, it had officially been re-designated the spare bedroom.

 

Phil couldn’t be happier.


	8. Chapter 8

Phil and Clint were at the Tower for an Avengers movie night, sharing one side of the couch with Clint sitting sideways in the corner, legs folded above Phil’s lap. Clint was coming to really enjoy the time he got to spend with the team, the longer he got to know them, but Phil – despite being the S.H.I.E.L.D. liaison to the Avengers – had never been invited to one of their movie nights before. Clint had decided that needed to change. Phil was a key member of the team!

 

Also, the fact that he and Phil were now living together made it feel kind of weird for Clint to head off to the Avengers Tower all on his own.

 

They were halfway through the first movie when Steve finally decided to make an appearance – he claimed he’d been at some sort of “important meeting” across town, but Clint could see the beads of sweat still glistening on his neck and chest (because Steve never, ever wore a shirt to movie night), and was pretty sure he’d just lost track of time in the middle of a workout. He didn’t mention this to the rest of the team, though. Steve had put a lot of energy into convincing everyone that these movie nights were important “team building exercises,” and Clint was pretty sure making him admit to being late because of a workout would pretty seriously undermine that effort.

 

What could he say? He could be a decent dude when he wanted to be.

 

Phil, on the other hand, seemed to be quite thoroughly not making an attempt at “decent dude” – that is until Clint jabbed him in the stomach with his elbow and Phil’s mouth snapped shut from where it had been hanging open. Phil cleared his throat, looking flustered and contrite.

 

Clint smirked.

 

Happily for Clint and his future ability to tease Phil for the rest of eternity, Steve picked that moment to suddenly notice he was there.

 

“ _Phil!_ ” Steve said, reaching out his hand to shake Phil’s (which Clint guessed would be hilariously clammy at the moment). “ _I didn’t know we were expecting you. I’m glad you’re here though – it’s good to have one sensible voice around the table._ ”

 

Phil seemed to still be recovering from his first in-person-up-close view of a shirtless Steve, so Clint stepped in.

 

“ _Oh, I don’t know about sensible_ ,” he joked. “ _We’re watching the_ Star Trek _movies tonight – as many of the originals as we can get through. Let’s just say Phil has… opinions_.”

 

“ _Oh, come on_ ,” Phil complained, finally finding his footing. “Search for Spock _? Who doesn’t have opinions? I don’t care what anyone nowadays thinks, we all loved it when it came out. 100% most underrated movie of the whole franchise_.”

 

“ _Well, I haven’t seen any of them_ ,” Steve shrugged.

 

Phil’s jaw dropped for an entirely different reason this time. Clint tried to hold back his laughter at what Steve had just gotten himself into.

 

“ _You haven’t seen any of them?_ ” Phil asked. “ _That’s it, you’re officially getting educated on everything you’ve missed – specifically, all the_ Star Trek _you’ve missed. JARVIS, start the movie over from the beginning, please. Actually, let’s watch the Director’s Edition. You will not be sorry, Steve_.”

 

They started the movie from the beginning, and Phil had to keep pausing every five minutes to explain some incredibly vital Easter egg or other minutiae to Steve, who looked more than a little bit overwhelmed by the entire ordeal. Clint was pretty sure the rest of the team was starting to wonder what they’d gotten into by inviting him along, but for his part, Clint just thought the whole thing was hilarious.

 

Maybe he’d have to suggest a different movie next time, though.

 

By the time they made it through the 136 minute Director’s Edition, it had been almost four hours, and no one even had the energy to start _Wrath of Khan_.

 

No one except Phil, of course, who Clint was slightly worried would be starting it up on their TV as soon as they got home. Maybe he should just stay at the Tower tonight.

 

“ _I mean it, Steve_ ,” Phil said as Clint was helping him into his jacket in hopes it might get him moving. “ _We’re going to watch all of these. Set aside some time on your days off, I’m getting you caught up on an important cultural staple here_.” After he said it, Phil seemed to suddenly realize that he was talking to his life-long celebrity crush, and he blushed a deep red before drawing silent. Luckily, Steve was being his usual accommodating self, and just said that he was looking forward to the education.

 

Then he winked, and Clint was pretty sure Phil was actually going to die.

 

The rest of the Avengers all said their goodbyes, and Phil and Clint headed down to the garage to find Lola – Phil had decided it was a nice night out and she needed some road time. As they pulled away from the Tower, Clint couldn’t help it anymore. He burst out laughing.

 

“ _Oh, God, Phil, that was the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen_ ,” he spoke through his guffaws. He’d left his hearing aids in as they’d left the Tower, as Phil wasn’t a native signer and still wasn’t comfortable with the whole idea of signing while driving. Which was fair enough, Clint supposed. Everyone needs to know their limits.

 

“ _What?_ ” Phil asked sheepishly. “ _I like_ Star Trek _, this isn’t news_.”

 

“ _Like it? Dude, I swear you weren’t even watching, you spent so much time stopping the movie to explain things. But that’s not even what I was talking about_ ,” he said, making his voice suggestive and waggling his eyebrows. “ _I meant it was adorable watching you flirt with Captain America_.”

 

Phil sputtered and looked over at Clint in shock before turning his eyes back on the road.

 

“ _I wasn’t flirting!_ ” he argued.

 

“ _Really?_ ” Clint said, left eyebrow raised. “ _And I suppose you didn’t spend half the movie staring at his abs, either?_ ”

 

“ _… That’s not fair_ ,” Phil said finally. “ _I’m a mere mortal, I can’t be held accountable just for looking._ ”

 

Clint shook his head laughing. “ _You should just bang him already_ ,” he suggested. “ _The guy’s definitely into you too_.” _Not that I blame him_ , he thought, but wisely chose to keep that particular comment to himself.

 

At this, Phil gave him a bewildered look. “ _Why the hell would I want to do that?_ ” he asked.

 

_Umm…_ Was he really asking that?

 

“ _Come on, Phil_ ,” he said. “ _Really? You’ve been crushing on him since like the third grade_.”

 

“ _Second grade_ ,” Phil admitted. “ _But that’s not important. I’m not interested in sleeping with anyone but you_.”

 

_Well shit._

 

That sobered Clint up quickly. _With me?_ he thought. _But…_ Clint knew that Phil was interested in him – that much had been made clear when Phil had asked him out all those months ago – but it had literally fallen apart _because of sex_ , so how could Phil say he didn’t want to have sex with anyone but him? Did that mean he hadn’t been having sex with other people this whole time? Because that didn’t seem right.

 

“ _Phil_ ,” he said eventually, carefully. “ _Look, I’m really sorry I can’t –_ ”

 

“ _No_ ,” Phil cut him off. “ _I’ve told you Clint, you don’t have to be sorry. I don’t need sex to be happy, okay? And_ especially _not with someone who doesn’t want it just as much as I do_.”

 

_Right_. Clint was surprised how much that still stung even after all this time. But he still didn’t understand why Phil wouldn’t be having sex with other people? And specifically with Steve – all of Earth and Asgard knew he was attracted to him, so what was the hold up?

 

“ _Okay_ ,” Clint said. “ _But just so you know, I wouldn’t be upset if you and Steve…_ ”

 

“ _I’m not interested, Clint_ ,” Phil breathed. “ _Seriously, I appreciate it, but I’m just not, okay? I have a small boyish crush on Captain America, that doesn’t mean I want to sleep with Steve Rogers. It’s all good, okay?_ ” They were stopped at a red light, and Phil was looking over at Clint with way too much meaning in his eyes. Clint had to look away.

 

“ _Okay_ ,” he nodded, staring out the windshield directly in front of him.

 

“ _Okay_ ,” Phil replied, and his hand came over to squeeze Clint’s thigh for a moment, before the light changed and he needed both hands to drive again.

 

The rest of the way back to the apartment, they talked about the scene where Zachary Quinto’s Spock meets Leonard Nimoy’s Spock for the first time, and how that scene would apparently one day come to define an entire generation of film or something. Clint wasn’t really sure, but he was happy to play along.

 

_Sensible voice indeed_ , Clint thought. _Really, Steve? If that’s what you honestly believe, you’ve missed out on some of the very best parts of Phillip J. Coulson._

 

\---

He threw Natasha’s door open heavily enough to cause it to slam into the wall behind it.

 

“What am I missing?” he signed angrily.

 

Natasha just raised her eyebrow in question.

 

“It’s Phil!” he complained. “Now he’s telling me he’s not interested in having sex with anyone _but me_! What does that even _mean_?”

 

Natasha frowned. “What exactly did he say, Clint?” she asked. “Because that sounds… interesting.”

 

“Interesting? Hah! I told him he should bang Cap, and he’s all ‘no, Clint, I don’t want to sleep with anyone else except you.’ Except, he _told me_ he couldn’t be in a relationship with me without sex! So, what? Now he’s just not in any relationships with anyone? _Or_ having sex with anyone? What could possibly be the point of that when he could just as easily be in a relationship with _me_ and not having sex with anyone?”

 

“I think there may be more to it than that…” Natasha suggested. She had on her suspicious face, and honestly, Clint didn’t have it in him to deal with this right now. He just wanted to lament the inexplicable predicament that was his life.

 

“Ugh!” he whined, collapsing onto the bed in front of her. “Please don’t do your super spy thing and look into this. Just comfort me? Tell me Phil is a stupid, stupid man who clearly doesn’t understand love, because if he did he would love me.”

 

Natasha repeated it word for word, then ran her fingers through Clint’s hair. The kind gesture was enough to make Clint tear up a little.

 

“I just don’t understand,” he signed, much more subdued now than he had been even moments earlier. “Why doesn’t he want me? Or, I mean, if he does want me, enough to give up ever having sex again, then why doesn’t he want the parts of me I _can_ give? Why am I not enough?”

 

“I don’t know, _Little Bird_ ,” Natasha told him. “But give him time, okay? I get the feeling there may be something we’re both missing here.”

 

“Yeah, all right,” Clint conceded. “But only if you play video games with me until I forget all about this nonsense.”

 

“Deal.”


	9. Chapter 9

It had been about a month since the shirtless Captain America incident (well, the first one – Phil had been coming to their movie nights regularly ever since, but there had been no further discussion of who should or shouldn’t sleep with whom, so that was good), and honestly, Clint thought he was doing a pretty damn good job of re-burying any issues he may have had with the fact that Phil didn’t want him, thank you very much.

 

That is, until he found the ring.

 

He blamed Fury. After all, it was Fury who had called him in for a week-long op on a day when he had only a week’s worth of clean underwear left.

 

He’d arrived home Friday evening around six, feeling grungy and disgusting, and had immediately made for the shower. Then he’d realized he was out of fresh underwear, and had decided that Phil probably wouldn’t mind if he borrowed a pair of his briefs just this once. It’s not like he wasn’t going to wash them after.

 

But then he’d made the mistake of reaching to the back of the drawer where he’d seen a pair of bright purple underwear that looked like a good choice and, as he pulled them out, a little black box came rolling out to the front of the drawer.

 

_That_ kind of little black box.

 

Clint’s heart stopped.

 

Hands shaking in a way they hadn’t since before he’d learned to keep them steady for his act at the circus, he reached forward and picked up the box, opening it slowly.

 

He immediately dropped it.

 

Yep, that was a ring all right. _Fuck_.

 

How had he not known about this?

 

He was not going to have a panic attack. He took deep breaths, calming himself down, and picked the ring back up, placing it on the dresser. He finished getting dressed, foregoing the underwear altogether in favor of sweatpants and an old T-shirt, then carried the ring with him to the kitchen to make dinner.

 

He wasn’t sure why he brought it with him, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.

 

He had finished eating and washing his dishes, and was sitting back at the dining room table staring blankly at the ring box in front of him, when Phil walked in the door some indefinite amount of time later.

 

Phil frowned when he saw him there, then froze when his eyes landed on the box. Clint gazed up at him, trying not to look like he was falling apart.

 

“Were you ever going to tell me?” he asked, hands not altogether steady even now.

 

Phil swallowed. “Of course I was. I – I was just waiting for the right time.”

 

Clint’s heart broke. “And when was the right time?” he asked. “ _After_ you’d moved out and left me for someone else?”

 

The confusion on Phil’s face did nothing to soothe the ache in Clint’s heart.

 

“What?” Phil signed. “No, of course not. That’s a weird thing to – whatever. I’m sorry, I should have talked to you about this sooner. You’re right. Of course.”

 

“Well?” Clint asked, raising his chin almost defiantly, and bracing himself for the impact of Phil’s next words. When Phil told him he’d met someone and Clint would need to move out. “No time like the present, right? Let’s have it.”

 

Phil’s eyes widened, and he nodded and reached for the ring box. Clint handed it over to him.

 

And then Phil did the last thing that Clint ever would have expected.

 

He got down on one knee.

 

Placing the ring box on the floor in front of him, Phil looked up at Clint nervously, and began to sign.

 

“Clinton Francis Barton,” he spelled out Clint’s full name for possibly the first time ever. Clint stared in shock as Phil took a deep steadying breath before continuing. “I don’t exactly have a speech ready… I wasn’t planning on doing this just yet, but then in some ways I probably should have done it a long time ago. Anyway, here goes. I love you. Clint, I love you with every fibre of my being, and the last few months together have been some of the very best of my life, and all I know is that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Because you make me happy. And I think I make you happy too. So… Clint, will you marry me?”

 

Clint stood, frozen, staring at Phil on the ground, at the ring, at Phil’s hands, wondering if he’d severely misread what Phil was saying just now, or if he’d somehow misread something much larger.

 

“…What?” he asked, because that was the only coherent word that came to mind.

 

Suddenly, Phil’s face shifted from hopeful to anxious, and no, Clint didn’t like that at all.

 

“Look, I realize it’s fast,” Phil was reasoning. “But if you look at how long we’ve known each other, it’s really practically glacial. I mean, I’ve been in love with you for ten years, but I don’t know how long you’ve felt the same way, so if you’re not ready, we can just pretend this never happened, okay? And I can wait until you decide –”

 

“Wait, what?” Clint interrupted, because this wasn’t helping him at all. “Phil, you need to back up like twenty steps, I’m so confused, I’m sorry, but… you want to marry me?”

 

“Do you not?” Phil asked, gaze on the floor. Nope, that was unacceptable. Phil was never allowed to look like that again, Clint wouldn’t have it. He reached out and physically pulled Phil’s chin up so that he was looking at him.

 

“No, Phil, wait, that’s – that’s not what I meant at all, okay? I’m not telling you no, I promise, okay? I promise. I just – I think I’ve missed something really vital here. This is some sort of major, _major_ misunderstanding, but I swear I’m not telling you no. Maybe… maybe we can just start from the beginning.”

 

Phil was nodding along, with a look on his face that was cautious, but not nearly so hurt as it had been a minute ago, and Clint could work with that.

 

“Okay,” Phil agreed. “So… where’s the beginning?”

 

Clint had so very many thoughts about that, a million questions whirling through his brain, so many he couldn’t pick one to latch on to, so he was as surprised as Phil when the words that formed on his hands next were:

 

“When did we start dating?”

 

Okay, judging by the look on Phil’s face, maybe he wasn’t _quite_ as surprised as Phil.

 

“When… six months ago,” Phil answered. “I asked you out, remember? And then you came out to me, and I said that wasn’t a problem for me, and sex didn’t matter, and then we cuddled and watched TV, and then later we went on a date and you met Rory, and – is this not ringing bells? I don’t…” he trailed off.

 

“But that’s not what happened,” Clint signed. “You rejected me!”

 

Phil looked bewildered. “Why would I reject you? I’m the one who asked you out.”

 

Now Clint was becoming frantic. “No, you asked me out, and then I told you I was asexual, and then you rejected me! You were all ‘no worries, Clint, I didn’t care about you that much anyway,’ and you didn’t even ask any follow-up questions, like about my boundaries or whatever, so it was obvious you didn’t even care if I’d maybe be willing to do certain things but not others, it was just a deal-breaker, and that’s fine, it’s allowed to be, hell, based on experience it is for most people, but you rejected me!”

 

“I _tried_ to ask follow-up questions!” Phil insisted. “I tried so many times, but every time I brought up anything about sex, you always shut me down. I just figured you weren’t ready to talk about it, so I’d just let you lead. But it’s because _you_ shut me down when I asked.”

 

“Because you _rejected_ me!” But he was starting to get the distinct impression that wasn’t true at all. “Didn’t you?”

 

“God no,” Phil replied, not signing quite so aggressively as he had been a moment before, but somehow conveying even more meaning. “Clint, I would never reject you over something like that. Never, okay? Look at me. I promise. Fuck, Clint, I haven’t had sex in years. I don’t care about it, okay? I _promise_.”

 

Clint didn’t know what to make of all the thoughts in his head. Suddenly, so many things that had happened over the past six months took on an entirely different light. They’d gone to a wedding together, and moved in together, and _fuck_ , Clint was sleeping in Phil’s bed… Phil had thought they’d been in a relationship the whole time?

 

_I mean, from the outside it sort of looks like we were_ , he thought.

 

“Clint,” Phil signed, breaking him out of his thoughts and nearly breaking his heart with the sincerity of his next words. “You said we were partners.”

 

_Oh._ Phil _had_ meant that kind of partner, after all.

 

“I just thought you meant like the ‘best friends’ kind of partners,” he replied weakly.

 

“What?”

 

“You know…,” Clint reasoned. “Like Turk and J.T., from _Scrubs._ Platonic life partners or whatever. But where you’d inevitably leave me sooner or later when you fell in love.”

 

“But I already am in love.”

 

Fuck, Clint was going to cry. This was all too much, and he couldn’t be expected to deal with it anymore. He just couldn’t.

 

“You… you really want to marry me?” he asked, and yep, those were tears starting.

 

“I really do,” answered Phil.

 

That was all it took. The waterworks started in earnest, and Clint lunged forward to hug Phil, clinging onto him desperately and sobbing into his shirt. Phil held him tightly and rubbed his back, which only made Clint cry harder.

 

Phil loved him. He actually loved him, and he didn’t care about the sex, didn’t care about any of it, and he wanted to marry Clint anyway, even though Clint had had no idea they were dating, hadn’t even been trying, hadn’t even told Phil how much he loved him too.

 

He supposed he should probably do that now, huh?

 

He pulled back from the hug, and signed, “Phil?” At Phil’s nod, he continued, “I just want you to know for sure that – I love you too. Romantically. And – yes, I’ll marry you.”

 

Now see that? _That_ was the look he wanted to see on Phil’s face for the rest of his life.

 

Then, of course, his thoughts turned to some of the other things he wanted. Had wanted for a long time.

 

“Phil?” he asked again. This time, when Phil nodded, he asked, “I know I’m all snotty and disgusting right now, but please, _please_ can you kiss me?”

 

“Are you sure?” Phil confirmed.

 

“ _Please_ ,” Clint nodded. “Just – no tongue.”

 

“Of course,” Phil answered, and pulled Clint into a passionate kiss that made him weak at the knees.

 

Clint was going to have to spend a lot of time reconciling himself with everything that had just happened, with the ways everything he’d thought he’d known about his relationship with Phil had been turned on its head in an instant.

 

For now, though, he just kissed him back and thought, _I get to have this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We made it! Please comment and, if you liked it, leave kudos! It means a lot.


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